


nothing comes close to the way that i need you

by crownuponherhead



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x03 spoilers, Bathing/Washing, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post battle of Winterfell, Post-War, just in case u know??, lbr this is very very domestic and cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 12:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18660049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownuponherhead/pseuds/crownuponherhead
Summary: “Sansa,”  Two syllables. All it takes is two syllables weak from war but still stable in its deep sound. She practically whips around, her eyes searching him desperately and she does sprint. The blood, dirt, and sweat be damned her entire soul needs to have her arms around him. He’s safe, he’s alive, he came back.for a prompt on tumblr





	nothing comes close to the way that i need you

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt: Jonsa prompt: they have said they would talk after the battle, now the war is done and Jon comes clean about his feelings for Sansa, tells her everything.
> 
> i hope you like it

Death seems to hang in the air still, she’s weary and her heart aches as she steps into the courtyard from the crypts. It’s crisp and cool despite the fact that snow is no longer falling, but her eyes seem stuck on the still smoldering ashes, piles of ice, and the bodies that lay scattered throughout the yard. She knows and hears other people around her but it hasn’t truly registered in her being that people have walked out of the crypts with her. Her eyes dance from building to building, body to body. Where are they? Who is there to bury? Or burn? Her movements aren’t even registering her with as she moves through the yard. She isn’t sure how she made it to the gate to the Godswood but she has. Her hands ready to rip open the gates and sprint, could she sprint right now? She could if she needed to. Her hands barely touch the gate when she hears her name. 

 

“Sansa,”  Two syllables. All it takes is two syllables weak from war but still stable in its deep sound. She practically whips around, her eyes searching him desperately and she does sprint. The blood, dirt, and sweat be damned her entire soul needs to have her arms around him. He’s safe, he’s alive, he came back. She lets out a sound between a laugh of joy and a sob. Her mind is wracking with thoughts and emotions but words don’t seem to be able to come to her. And the war must leave him weary for Jon seems to lean more on her even with the strong hold his arms have around her. She doesn’t want to let go, not ever. 

 

“And Arya?! Bran?!” She finally finds her voice and it’s barely come to her but she finally let her thoughts out. He moves just a bit enough a way to look at her, to ensure that she sees his eyes. 

 

“Safe.” Her heart stops racing at that, leaning forward to place her forehead against his in relief. They’re both breathing heavily and she can barely believe that it’s true that they survived, they all survived. The matter that they’re alive, they will leave to see the sunset by the end of the day and the dead can no longer end the world.

 

It’s finally then she gets a look at him again. She takes in the blood, dirt, and sweat. She’s seen him like this before when he won their home back. And now he stands here again with their home a little broken and another battle to be fought on another day but looking all the same except the look in his eyes says exhaustion instead of the look of death that was in it before. And she lets go of her hold despite wanting to do anything but that. Instead, she gently tugs on his hand and begins to walk towards the keep. “You need to clean up.” 

 

The walk to her chambers is empty she supposes no one is really trying to prepare the castle for the day. She wouldn’t have asked them to. However, as they approached the keep she does stop the first lady she sees scurrying about in a catatonic state that seems to have settled on the castle. “Could you please bring some water to my chambers for a bath, it does not matter if it is cold.” He had not let go of her hand as she spoke to the woman. It’s a slow but silent walk as they make her way to her chambers. They take in the views around them, the destruction, the bodies. 

 

“We’ll have to burn them soon” 

 

“We will, but for right now we will rest.” 

 

She opens the door to her chambers and motions for him to sit, she will deal with dirt it can be cleaned. Going to the hearth she begins to make sure the fire that has slowly died through the night is rekindled, but only after having made sure Jon is sitting in the chairs that sit in front of it. She will not have him going about the chambers putting his fatigued body through more pain than he needs to when she is more than capable of doing this work. Letting her cloak rest in the chair next to him she continues making sure everything put together. She pulls the bath out from the corner to closer to the hearth for warmth, she doesn’t doubt he needs plenty of warmth right now. She only stops when the lady comes back with water for the bath in tow and another lady holding another. She mumbles something about hot water from the Godswood filling the bath before quickly leaving. Sansa bolts the door. 

 

“Go on, you need to bath and someone has to be here to make sure you don’t have some wound you’re hiding from us.” She let’s a smirk cross her lips just lightly before adjusting on her feet. “And I believe I owe you enough to make sure you are good and cleaned and relaxed.”

 

It’s all very domestic, she knows that and so does he. However, it does not feel wrong as Jon slowly undresses for the bath. It’s only slow from the stiffness that his muscles have. She had expected him to object to insist it wasn’t proper, he does none of that. Not that she is complaining about it at all. Instead she moved to grab the soap and oils from a cupboard as well as some linen cloths. Dropping to her knees on the side of the wooden bath, she dipped the soap into the water and slowly began to clean the grime off his skin. 

 

“Arya killed the Night King.” It’s the first time he’s spoken since they entered her chambers. She’s not unhappy to hear it just surprised at both the voice and the words. For some reason, it doesn’t surprise her. 

 

“She’ll be as praised as Nymeria the warrior queen, they’ll sing songs about her bravery.  They’ll sing songs of all your bravery.” As she spoke, Jon had relaxed more leaning into each touch. His eyes had closed and he truly looked relaxed, she doesn’t think he’s looked relaxed since they sat and shared soup together. 

 

“I do not wish to ever hear these songs.” 

 

“Than you never will hear them.” It’s so matter of fact his eyes open again. She’s leaning over the tub scrubbing his chest her hands lightly brushing the scar over his heart. She gives him a very shy smile and continues her movements. 

 

“Sansa,” It’s not just Jon’s voice that stills her but his hand that grips hers now. She looks at him, expectantly from being addressed. It’s silent for a moment as Jon seems to study her face before finally speaking. “I’m not a Stark.” 

 

“Jon, how many times-” But he interrupts her and the words die on her lips as the truth spills out of his. 

 

“No, I am the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. I am not your brother.” 

 

That makes them both pause the silence settles in her chambers as her eyes remain steadily on him.  She sits cleaning a man who is not her brother. Her cousin. She should be furious that he allowed her to reach this point before saying anything but she just picks up the soap and continues. “No, you are not. You are my cousin, that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop bathing you.” The last part leaves her lips with a teasing tone and her eyes meet his again. “Have you told your Dragon Queen that she is your Aunt?” And that tone that he’d heard before when they argued, when she asked if he bent the knee for love, echoes through the chambers. 

“Aye, she looked ready to fight me on sight if the dead had not arrived.”  They fall into silence at that, eyes sill catching each other in the soft light of the candle and the rising sun outside. She slowly begins to begin cleaning his curls. His words echoing through her head. The most dangerous enemy stood somewhere in this castle.

 

“You’re a threat to her now, a threat to the throne.” Calculative and balanced, it’s the only way to describe her voice even as she is massaging soap into his scalp trying to rid the grime of battle. 

 

“I don’t want it, melt it to the ground for all I care.” Sansa’s eyes snap to meet his at that, he didn’t even want to be King in the North she knows he has no desire to sit on a throne in the South. 

 

“Even if you don’t want it, you are a threat to her claim. We need to be careful.” She pauses before she moves to gently wipe what remaining stains of blood are on his face. “People will start to ask about marriages soon, for us both. The dead are defeated and marriage is the strongest alliance.”  As she goes to dip the cloth back in the water his hand catches her wrist. It makes her breath hitch and she meets his eyes. She should and could blame it on exhaustion or the adrenaline that seems to have begun to pump through her blood, but the words leave her mouth before she can stop them. “If we wed, no matter the outcome it will tie the North and the South together diplomatically. And you could keep your promise.” 

 

When he doesn’t speak she fears the worse, ready to cover her own tracks. Something about this all makes her feel as if she is a young girl again, with butterflies in her stomach and dreams in her mind. 

 

“If we wed, you must know that I do not look at you as a sister and I have not for a while.” Jon’s hand has come to rest on her cheek and she can’t help but lean into and move forward. Indecency be damned. “You asked if I bent the knee for the North or for love, it’s both. I do not love her, I have never. The only one that I love is sitting in front of me selfishly washing me after battle when I do not deserve it.”  

 

It feels as if time has stopped. The only time she has felt that before have been terrible moments. Now time feels to have stopped as she leans forward and presses her lips to Jon’s in the most delicate manner. It is quick but the most love and pleasure she has received from another man in just a brief kiss. She does not move however, her forehead comes to rest against his as it did in the courtyard. “I thought myself like Cersei, for how could I have been so jealous and so craven for my brother? I was jealous, you brought another woman home and called her Queen and I did not know how to handle the emotions. I did not realize I love you.” 

 

His lips are on hers again and this time it is much more passionate, the barrier of the bath is the only thing that separates them. Her hands go to cup each side of his cheeks. He keeps one hand on her cheek and the other below her shoulder on her back as if he can will the barrier of the bath away and pull her closer somehow.  And as his lips move to her neck, with sweet nothings escaping his lips at the same time she finds herself wishing it would go away as well. 

 

“Sansa, sweet girl, I want nothing more than to marry you in the Godswood, to never leave the North again, to have a future here with you.” 

 

“But we’ll have to leave won’t we?” She voices both of their own fears aloud as he rests his head on her chest. “We have another war at hand.” Her hands go back to his curls she’d just watched and she focuses in on the fire crackling. 

 

“Aye, but we can still wed in the Godswood.” They’re playing a dangerous game, if they secretly wed after all a secret love between a Stark and Targaryen led to war. But she feels a kiss to her collarbone and instead she nods. 

 

“We’ll find who is important and wed in the Godswood, sooner rather than later.”  And she feels a bit silly but she as she finally stands insisting that the water is getting too cold. She hands Jon the fresh clothes she’d made him. A thought passes in her head that maybe a love between a Stark and a Targaryen can end this war as well. 

**Author's Note:**

> i had spent too much time in jon's pov lately i had to get back to my girl. i missed her !!!
> 
> i hope u all like this i just kept thinking during the episode that everyone needed a bath and like....this happened bc i was trying to finish this prompt and yes. the title is from oceans by seafret !!!
> 
> pls let me know if you liked it and as always thank you i love you all lots.


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